Hello, boys! I'm back!

In the forum thread, thunder rolls. A mysterious figure shrouded in a haze of smoke cackles, then disappears in a blinding flash of light. In Obsidian Orbital, the lights go dark, dead. They believe it's the Thargoid infection, but it's not. Around the galaxy, Commanders stare in awe and horror, as they see the Harbinger of Armageddon arise once again before them. They may have felled him many times before, but every time he reappears to strike dread into their hearts and minds. They hide behind their fuel canisters, finger on 'Eject All', for I am writing drabbles once again.

31st Century Apocrypha

"And, lo, a figure will emerge from the darkness. He will carry a flower, but the flower will conceal the flame. This figure is not to be trusted! This figure is not our friend! Hear me: he will sow the seeds of destruction, driving deeper the factious divisions of man. All he touches will corrode and decay. All of man's armies will crumble before him. A rainbow of death will follow him. Now is the time to prepare, to seek friends, to build alliances. Be warned, friends! There is still time left! "

The riders of the Apocalypse sat in the shipyard, reading catalogs.
The first selected an FDL. "It will be as white as a neutron star and bring defeat to our enemies."
The second pointed at a Corvette. "It shall be the colour of blood and will wage war on unbelievers."
The third selected an Asp. "In black it will smuggle Thargoid sensors to poison the infidel."
The fourth settled on an Beluga. "Its pale appearance will gather the escape pods of the dead."
Finally the fifth looked up from the Sidewinder brochure. "Hey I have found one we can afford!"

Armaggedon Outta Here!

An asteroid is on a collision course with Earth.

Frank stands heroically and spits out his cigar at the President of Earth. "Ya think you can teach yer astronauts tae mine? It's something only a Marlborough-smokin' Janx-swiggin' team of miners can do."

Skiprat pipes up from the back of the team "We want our bounties cleared... forever."

After a collage of technical and inter-personal problems they land on the asteroid. "Lads! This rock is 80% pure panite!"

"Okay. Let's forget about the bomb, fill our holds with as much panite as possible, and find a market to sell it at."

Her Bosom heaved up and down and her heart was threatening to beat out of her chest. The sheer shock of what lay before her was beginning to sink in. cold sweat ran down the small of her back and began to thicken the Goose Butter that was congealing below. It was at this point Draxxor cried, all the life on the planet below had now been extinguished, a once habitable rock boasting over a billion souls now an armageddon wasteland. the atmosphere was blown into space and debris scattered into orbit... worse still, the 'furry con' was now canceled!

Galactic Midden Ate My Hamster!

Holly the hamster had gone missing during Simoof's Mission to beagle point.
'You've got to find that hamster' Moof ordered 'get down there and find it'
Showing more than a little plumbers crack Mr Hankey crawled into the duct
'You found 'owt yet?' Simoof said 'I can't see anything down there'
'I think I can hear squeaking' Hankey crawled further into the Duct
'Try luring it out with your snake'
'I can't get it out in here'
Simoof heard a loud splodge as Mr Hankey screamed
'Wha' is it' Simoof bent down lighting a match to see
'Armageddon' screamed Hankey

Don't they know its the end of the world?

Armageddon: the end of everything.
Something for us all to contemplate. A deep and terrible loss to the creative power of mankind.
Nothing left anymore. No more computer games. No silly radio shows.
No twitch streams at all. No drabbles.
A huge gaping void. One that can never be filled by anything again.
Such sadness. Such sorrow.
Shed a tear. Shed two or maybe three.
And then join the mad dash to do those things you always dreamed of before it all ends. Like injecting narcotics into your most intimate areas. And fornicating with everything and anything in sight.Hooray!

"CMDR Psymons here. I am fearful that this may be my last recording. The world is ending.
Three weeks.
Three god damn weeks and I have had to listen to nothing but the ramblings of lunatics.
She must have done something, they were normal before.
There must be some reasonable explanation.
I've scoured through the adverts and recordings, gone through every little detail.
I was about to lose hope.
-Wait, did you hear something?-
I think I know the cure: it's shiny
If anyone can hear this come to -static- 145 -CRASH!
-Oh she's here!"
static, screams
Transmission ends.